Absolute Zero
by Raven6224
Summary: Johanna Kassner is many things, a former CIA agent, and a guard at the Raft prison. Still there are many things that nobody knows about her, things she will never tell. Even on her deathbed. In the aftermath of the Civil War: Iron Man vs Captain America. Ties are drawn, but Johanna's secrets are wound around each side and there are secrets about herself that even she doesn't know
1. Prologue I: Two Years Prior

**Prologue I:**

 **2 Years Prior**

* * *

Johanna Kassner is young woman, in her early twenties. And the picture of perfection with platinum blond hair wound tightly in a low bun. Pinned with an accuracy and efficiency that only a woman in her line of work can accomplish. After finishing a report of the director of the CIA about suspicious activity occurring in the South Pacific by a terrorist group with harmful intention, she was making her way back to her office when she stumbled into the middle of a conversation.

Just as she rounded the corner leading to the hall in which her office was located, she caught the sound of low murmurs. It was far from intentional, Johanna was not the sort to eavesdrop. But at the sound of her name, she froze.

General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross and Mr. Trenton Sander—the head of the Directorate of Analysis (the department on the CIA Johanna was second-in-change to) stood by the water dispenser beside the door to the mail room. Trenton's back faced Johanna, but Thaddeus faced in her direction, though he didn't notice her right away. Being preoccupied by his discussion with the man before him.

From what Johanna could hear, they seemed to be discussing her qualifications as a CIA agent. Thaddeus seemed pleased about whatever information Trenton had provided. Motioning in Johanna's direction, with the hand with a thin white paper cup, General Ross cleared his throat.

Startled, Trenton glances over his shoulder. At the sight of Johanna, his face breaks out into an elated grin. "Ah, Agent Kassner, we were just talking about you. Come here would you please?"

"Only good things I hope" Johanna says, coolly, sliding across the tiled floor with grace.

Standing beside Trenton, she can't help but notice just how short and withering Trenton Sanders really is. It's always these up close moments that really show is age. Trenton's youthful nature and outlook makes him seem younger. The fact that he stood at a measly 5'1" with a spindly figure didn't help either.

Eyeing his frail, sickly arms for a moment, Johanna wonders how he ever manages to carry the boxes of paperwork required of their profession. His arms might just snap if he ever has to lift a box weighing more than twenty pounds. There were lines around his mouth and creases on his forehead. Stress related.

His graying-black hair showed the ragged demand of his job. Trenton Sanders was always one for professionalism though, so he kept his hair slicked back, wore a nicely pressed black suit and blue ties, fancy dress shoes, and a collared button up beneath his suits jacket. Though his eyes could be as shuttered as blinds and black as coals, when Trenton knew you, he was the friendliest person to ever meet.

"Of course," Trenton waves her off. "Agent Kassner, I'd like to introduce you to General Thaddeus Ross of US military. And General, meet Miss Johanna Kassner, the second-in-command of the CIA's Directorate of Analysis. She's been with the CIA for a handful of years now and takes her job very seriously. Though she's a stifled for the rules, I must admit."

The tone of the latter of Trenton's statement all teasing aimed at the woman in question.

"Well if I wasn't, nothing would get done around here," Johanna replied curtly, her voice clipped. She sends Trenton a dirty look before extending a hand out to General Ross. "It's an honor to meet you Sir."

Thaddeus tales her hand in his, giving a firm shake. "Well you are impressive indeed Ms. Kassner. Certainly my sort of colleague. Respectful and orderly. Is there any chance of your early retirement from the CIA?"

Johanna smirks. "That depends, what would I be doing after my departure?"

"That's classified. However, what I will say is this: the position I'm offering is much more hands on than your paperwork and analytical research and with your CIA entry records, you'd be perfect for the position."

Baby blue eyes shift to Trenton. Johanna speaks. "But what about my position here? It can't just be left open, I have a responsibility to my fellow associates."

A thoughtful look crosses over the harden general. "I'll make you a deal then. If you accept the position, I'll fill in the position here with a qualified individual. A trade of sorts. Would that be possible Mr. Sanders?"

Trenton nearly jumps at the sound of his name on Thaddeus's tongue. "Yes, of course. Not to mention your transfer letters from the House, the Senate, and the President himself. All I need is to print up the paperwork to be signed."

"Are you sure this is alright?" Johanna asks, not wanting to get him into any sort of trouble.

"Oh absolutely Agent Kassner. This is a wonderful opportunity that could really open doors for you. Honestly, and I'll deny this if you repeat it, you're not nearly used to your maximum potential here. You physical exam was nearly on par with Natasha Romanoff herself."

"Is that so?" Thaddeus asks, sounding generally interested now.

Johanna seems to shrink bashfully in on herself. "Well, I mean, it was a few years ago when I had my original physical. Those were the results then."

"Interesting."

Trenton Sander twisted, pressing a hand against the comm device in his ear. After a moment, he straightens back up and smiles sheepishly. Like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "Sorry about that. General Ross, your helicopters arrived."

General Ross nods. "Ms. Kessner, I'd like you to accompany me. After this I shall be heading to the location where you'll primarily be stationed and the five hour flight will give me the time to brief you. There's much to tell you and not nearly enough time for all of it. And Mr. Sanders, could you go draft that paperwork you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes, yes, absolutely! I'll print the paperwork and have it transferred over to your office by mid-morning tomorrow."

General Ross shakes hands with Trenton. With a smile flashed in Johanna's direction, Agent Sanders disappears around a sharp corner.

"Come on, lets go," is all that is said.

* * *

General Ross didn't say a single word until after liftoff. This wasn't a surprised to Johanna as she was aware that the roaring of the helicopter would have drowned out anything he said. Needed to be well informed was crucial and she needed every piece of information he provided. Even as she thought this, she was fighting back the urge to yawn.

By the time he spoke, Johanna was practically falling out of her seat with sleepiness. The swoosh of the rotatory blade could still heard in the cabin of the plane, but it was minuscule in comparison to the all-consuming, deafening sound of take off.

"There's been a vacant position at Raft Prison. That's where I'd like to place you."

Johanna, who's tiredness had now become slight irritation, kept her face passive. "You want me to play prison guard? I don't understand why my skills as a field op would be needed in some state run facility. Anyone could do that."

Thaddeus smirks, seemingly sensing her frustration. "Don't be mistaken, Agent Kassner. This is a federal run prison in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean for particularly special criminals. Such as enhanced individuals."

That caught Johanna's attention. The entire reason she agreed to reassignment was because she was tried of the droll paperwork and board meetings. She spent a year as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. before she retired from their service and joined the CIA. Her problem with S.H.I.E.L.D. was the secrets and the unknowing. She didn't like the unknown and the open possibilities for failure.

After joining the CIA, and passing with flying colors, Johanna found the she missed the hands-on approach that come along with her former career. The physicality and ability to use her training to help others was a thrill. Now she has the chance again.

"The Raft is where the US government is currently housing Emil Blonsky in a cyrocell."

She quirks an eyebrow at the name. "You mean The Abomination, that guy who turned Harlem into the Great Plains?"

"Yes, him."

"I though he was in a base in Alaska."

"He was, but with the construction of the Raft, the officials felt that this would be a much more secure location to house him. I happen to agree as well and since I can't always be here, I need eyes inside to keep the Raft running smoothly, that's why I sought you out."

"Why me? There has to be others who you have more trust in than a stranger."

"There are, but you have a streak about you. When you signed up for S.H.I.E.L.D. I was visiting on official business and happened to catch a glimpse of your entry exam. You have the sort of stamina to contend with any opponent you may face, you are intelligent, and your work with the CIA shows you have the skills to navigate through large amounts of internet data to find what you're looking for. I may need you eye for things in the future."

"And that would be?"

"Look, I'll be up front with you. As you already know, The Avengers are public knowledge and that's something we should keep an eye on. They operate with unlimited authority, for now, but I have a feeling that their vigilantism will fall back on them eventually. However, until then it's our job to watch for potential threats. Individuals with the sort of abilities at The Avengers are a threat. If I need someone to trace databases and hack into systems, you'd be perfect for the job. That's why I chose you. Your skills make you invaluable to the stability of the world at large."

Johanna nods, more to herself. "I understand now, thank you for clarifying. If I can help the world by working at the Raft, then I will do so with my held held high. Thank you for the opportunity General Ross."

"You'll be a guard at the prison, but also a sort of associate warden. You'll keep an eye over all operations of the Raft and you'll report to me and only to me, is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm wondering, if there's currently only one prisoner at the Raft at the moment, what will I be doing during my time there?"

"I'm glad you asked. For the time being, you'll be keeping your attention focused on looking out for super powered individuals."

She pursed her lips. "Has something happened? Last I checked, Tony Stark is still in the spotlight, Steve Rogers is working with S.H.I.E.L.D. along with Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton. Thor's off world and Bruce Banner is currently staying at Stark Towers right?"

"They are. It's not them that I'm concerned with. Yes I would like you to keep an eye on what they're up too, but it's the unrevealed enhanced that I'm more concerned with. They are unknown factors, dangerous to us. S.H.I.E.L.D may be more delved into that area, but with there attachment to dangerous criminals, we'd best keep out eyes pealed."

"So, I'll be compiling a list of any strange reports of individuals with super powers and you want me to check the possibility of it? Making sure it's not a hoax and backing up my research with multiple reports or even police records. Basically what I did with the CIA."

"Partially yes, but you'll be sent into confirm these allegations and find out if they're stable enough to be out in the world. I need someone who can defend themselves and your can. Keep a journal of all the people who do have those abilities and write down as much as you can. It could be useful someday in the future, it's best to be prepared."

Silence eclipsed over the cabin of the helicopter. Now that Joanna had all the information about her new position, she was thrumming with excitement. Sure she still had to dig into bits and pieces of information scattered across the web, but it was for a whole new purpose.

Finding dangerous individuals.

Not to mention that General Ross had basically confirmed that she would be allowed to do field work and meet with the people she was looking into. For the first time in a while, she was excited. This was sure to change everything.

It took another two hours before the helicopter neared the area where the Raft prison was stationed. Thaddeus Ross stood up from the black leather seat in the cabin and Johanna did the same. He led her towards one of the rounded windows to see the deep blue ocean below. Water crashing against itself and white foamy rings stretching out across the blue.

Then the water seemed to _rise_ up as if the Lost City of Atlanta's was finally found and was pushing its way up against the pressure that came with the oceans depth. Instead of a wonderful underwater city, a black sheet broke the surface. The rounded lid of the prison opened it mouth to reveal a landing pad situated in the center. A prison in the ocean.

"Welcome to the Raft, Agent Kassner."

* * *

 **A/N:**

This is a story I've been wanting to write for a long time, I've just never gotten around to doing it. I've rewritten this from the original to make it flow better and have less telling of what Johanna and Thaddeus are doing, so I hope it sounds much better. Also, the entire series isn't going to be third person, as it's far too time consuming, unless you all actually prefer this type of format. I just felt like third person would be best for this chapter. It's more of a prologue/flashback as it takes place two years before the next chapter. It was an opening to explain what's happening in chapter one and why Johanna is where she is and how she got there. Speaking of Johanna, don't believe everything you read from this chapter, I have an interesting backstory for her with some secrets to be revealed. That'll come with time, but I have a detailed background already written for her with the dates of everything. Also, this story will have longer chapters than any of my other one's, this chapter is shorter because it was basically filler/into. While I have posted this chapter, I haven't finished the first chapter, this is a preview for the series and it make be a bit before I post the next one. I'm currently putting more work into this by doing research into the Marvel Comic verse, so yeah, hope you all enjoy and get ready for the ride!

Also **SPOILERS FOR CA:CW** will be in later chapters. I'm not sure how detailed I'll get but there will be spoilers for sure so if you haven't see in, then watch it first before reading this. If you don't care about spoilers or have seen the film ready, then enjoy. I'll post as soon as the first chapter is to my liking.


	2. I: Breach at the Raft

**Chapter I:**

 **Breach at Raft Prison**

* * *

Sirens shatter the solitude of the Raft.

A sensor's been tripped, there's a break in by the South Sector of the facility. While most people break out of prison and not _into_ prison, apparently Steve Rogers never got that memo. After being frozen for seventy years, it would not surprise me.

I happened to be on the other side of the prison when the break in began. Through the halls, I tore. Feet pounding against metal. There are far to many hallways at a time like this. It's takes three and a half minutes for me to reach the South Sector. The alarms stopped wailing a minute ago, or fifty-five seconds to be exact. Not that I was counting.

The door to the control room is demolished. Utterly dented beyond hope or repair and propped open by a crowbar forcefully jammed into the wiring to keep the automatic doors open. Electricity spits furiously from the jammed gears.

When Secretary Ross—General Ross back then—offered me this position, he never included a 'fight-Captain-America' clause in my contract.

I sigh. Thaddeus should have anticipated this, I warned him that sending Barton, Lang, Maximoff, and Wilson here was a bad idea. He was just too stubborn to listen to me.

Then again, I doubt he predicted that the Avengers would start dropping cities out of the sky.

Or the Sokovia Accords.

Even so, he did know that it was likely for Steve Rogers to turn his sights of the Raft after the fallout between Rogers and Stark died down. The Raft is a prison for enhanced individuals and Steve Rogers knows that. His friends are considered criminals of the law and would be held in federal custody. Our set up just makes this place an easy target. All his allies in one location. Now he's here to rescue his vigilantes.

When I see Secretary Ross again, I have an _'I-told-you-so'_ waiting just for him.

I edge towards the control room door and peer around through the gaping hole to see the cataclysm left in Steve Roger's wake. The sight of the wreckage tells me all I need to know, it also makes me glad that I pressured a hesitant Ross into installing automatic systems. It's a good thing too, it works like a charm.

The inside of the control room is in total shambles, with papers scattered across the floor, chair turned over, and crumbled heaps of what used to be the guards. The three of them are nothing more than a tangled mess of limbs. Totally motionless, with the exception of their light breathing. Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I glance at the scrambled surveillance monitors that flicker frantically.

It's been a while since I worked actively on field duty. I haven't seen much combat since my S.H.I.E.L.D. days, but the possibility of it excites me. It's like a smoker who quit then takes a puff twelve years later. Refreshing.

My nerves hum as though lightning's running through them.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I smirk. "You think yourself so cleaver huh Captain?" Even though he can't actually hear me. It was for my own amusement anyhow. "Well think again."

I cross the floor, and reach around behind the monitor screens. There's an access panel behind the monitors that allow emergencies overrides. I place my hand against the cool glass face.

A robotic female voice responds. "Agent 23. Johanna Elaine Kessner, identification code 032309. Co-command of the Raft. Access granted. What my I do for you Agent 23?"

"We have an unwanted visitor on the premises, it's seems that Captain America is underestimating us. Would you please be so kind as to surveillance system over to frequency two?"

"As you please."

One by one the monitors went dark. Then they flicker back to life, this time with the image intact. There are a few hallways shots, littered with unconscious guards of the Raft, but I focus my attention on only one. It's the shot of The Hole.

The Hole is in the center of the Raft, the bottom floor is the cell block and the place where the former Avengers are being four cells circle one another, and a few of the cells are empty. The sight of the four Avengers isn't what concerns me. No, when Steve Rogers slips out from the shadows is what has me searching the other screens for his means of transport.

Captain America is inconsequential. Even if I wanted to bother with facing him in combat, there doesn't answer the big question. Where has he been hiding all this time? That's what I need to find out. At the sight of a sleek black Quinjet resting in the hanger bay on the monitor above footage from the Hole, I smirk.

There are two options at my disposal, and one of which I've already ruled out. That leaves option B. Slipping silently from the control room, I weave through the hallways and towards the hangar. Even though I'm itching for a fight, this isn't the right one. To face Captain America, the legendary super soldier head on, along with his team of highly trained thugs?

With insanity eluding me, outsmarting his little ragtag team is the better option.

Not to mention the valuable intel that will come of it. There are people who'd kill to have the inside knowledge of Captain America's whereabouts and I won't let this opportunity slip through my fingertips.

At the hanger door, I climb down the metal, wire-framed, stairs and see the Quinjet. Completely unguarded.

Crossing the pavement, I calculate the time it will take for Steve Roger's arrival. The time it will take for the four of them to reach this hanger from the Hole is a tricky thing to calculate. There are so many variables to include. If Wanda and the other prisoners were in better health, it would take them less than five minutes. Seven should suffice, and I'm being generous.

The Quinjet is a looming presence towering over me like a giant.

I kneel down beside the leg of the jet and reach into the pocket of my leather jacket. Pulling out a small silver, circular device that's as thick as a dime and will be what makes this successful. I place the backside of the device against the metal leg of the Quinjet and watch how seamlessly it blends against the chrome.

Then I do the same for the other two legs.

When Steve Rogers returns with his team, the legs of the Quinjet will retract into the bottom of the jet. Those little buggers will send back audio feed and updates on their current location. There'll never be a place where I can't find them. The AUDT—pronounced as audit don't ask, I had no part in naming it—which stands for (audio data transfer/tracker) is completely waterproof and nearly indestructible.

They should last a long while, I can even remotely activate them. The AUDT is designed with four spider-like legs, they make the audio transmitters movable. Able to be relocated, there's even slight video impute. Not as high-tech as our surveillance system, but enough to virtually 3-D scan the room and make a digital model.

Tech like that is expensive and not intended to be sent away like this, however, given the circumstances, I believe that my decision will be overlooked. Or completely _unnoticed_...

My phone buzzes in the front pocket of my jeans. Reaching for it, I slowly edge back the way I came.

THADDEUS ROSS

His name's written on the screen in all caps. Before I even considering answering, the nearing sound of multiple, heavy footsteps forces me to hide behind a pile of wooden crates covered by a gray tarp. Supply shipments from civilization.

I peer out beneath the tarp. The sight of Steve Rogers, in casual clothing, and the rest of his dingy squad dressed in prison blue rush is a sight to behold as they sprint across the platform. None of them noticing my watchful eyes.

I'm very good at being invisible.

The Quinjet opens up like the mouth of a giant and the five of them climb into the jet, none of them looking back. Even in the dim and sickly gray lighting, I can tell how underfed and unhealthy they were. It was not difficult to tell. The air in the Hole is nearly below sixty degrees. The roar of the jets overtake the silence of the room and I watch as the door of the Raft opens up to reveal the night sky overhead.

The phone buzzes again as the red taillights of the jet disappear from sight, this time I answer.

"Johanna! What's happening down there?"

"The Raft's been compromised. Steve Rogers was here."

* * *

Thaddeus Ross was pacing the room like a cage animal. His blue three-piece suit was impeccable as always, but his face was hard, closed-off, and _cold_. The kind of detachment only a trained general can achieve.

"Damn it!" he exclaims, slamming his clenched fists against the white tabletop.

The media's having a field day at the reveal of the former Avengers escape from the Raft and the United Nations isn't happy about it either. After the Sokovia Accords, all the nations are riled up and the escape of four criminals held in federal custody breaking out of one of the most secure facilities in the world. Not good. It also reflects horribly of Secretary Ross himself.

Thaddeus Ross takes the blame on his shoulders as it was he who pressed for the creation of the Raft as an impenetrable fortress. A modern day Alcatraz if you will, only this one was for super powered individuals instead.

Emil Blonsky, the Abomination, who was formerly being held in Barrow, Alaska after turning Harlem into his personal playground was relocated to the Raft as its first prisoner. Though he's currently doing time as the worlds ugliest Popsicle. The Raft is intended to be a secure place for super powered humans, yet the so-called prison to hold them filed.

"How the hell could you let this happen?" Thaddeus turns his attention to me. His eyes full of anger.

My emotions do not control me, so I remain passive.

"I apologize for my negligence as a guard. I was not at the control room when the sensors were tripped. At that time I was on-route to check Blonsky's vitals and cryo unit to secure its stability when the alarm sounded. By the time I reached the control room from the opposite side of the Raft, Rogers had already dealt with the guards in the control room."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Do you have any leads on their location Agent 23?"

Thaddeus sounds exhausted, completely unlike the man who sought me out for the sole sake of convincing me to join him. That is what politics does to people, strips people of their fight.

General Ross was a force to reckon with, a stubborn man who never backed down. Being Secretary of State has forced him to be more contained and more carefully consider what he can and cannot say. This was a more restrained and controlled man then the one I met. How much people can change in so little time. I suppose the same ideals could be applied to the Avengers themselves.

Captain America: the man out of time, the hero of the world, and the embodiment of the American people. Now a criminal of the law, a lack of faith in oversight and fighting against the accords.

Iron Man: the former weapons manufacture, the egotistic billionaire, the man with the middle finger to the government. In agreement with the accords, agreeing with oversight.

Two sides divided.

"I manged to recover the footage that was damaged by whatever bug was inflicted into the system, we've managed to get a ID on the Quinjet," I say, very intentionally avoiding to mention the bugging of the jet.

"Alright," Secretary Ross turns to the rest of the guards. "Get on it. Agent 23, come with me. There's matters for us to attend to."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Here we go, chapter two. It took me a bit longer, I was trying to keep Johanna from sounding too much like my previous character. Though there are so instances where Johanna may, it's alright as long as she has a uniqueness to her. Plus there still a lot about her that will be revealed and her personality will shift along with it. The only issue is trying to figure out how to go from here. I have no idea. I know where I want the series to go, I just don't want to rush the series along and I have no idea what should happen next chapter. So if you have any ideas, leave them down below! Be sure to favorite and comment.


	3. II: United Nations Office in Geneva

**Chapter II:**

 **United Nations Office at Geneva**

* * *

The United Nations rescheduled meeting was about to take place. There were officials everywhere, the room lined with rows of chairs. Ambassadors, leaders, politicians, and all of the like. After the bombing of Vienna International Centre, a new hearing was scheduled.

The Sokovia Accords were fast approved, even during the chaos. Instantaneously passed by all the world leaders that moment. Each of them came to the office of the Joint Terrorist Centre to sign the documents for the accords.

Now that everything's settled, the chips have fallen, the time to discuss the fallout has come. Many things needed to be discussed. The Winter Soldier, who was revealed _not_ to have been behind the UN bombing, the actual culprit being held in federal custody, and the breakout at the Raft. Which is why Secretary Ross has asked me to attend this hearing.

All the other guards at the Raft are to injured, be it by physical trauma or concussions. I'm the only one who wasn't in direct contact with Steve Roger's when he made his daring leap into the bowels of the Raft. Therefore I have to answer for my failure to detain him.

Those three things were the focal point of this gather, not to mention reparations for the damages done to the Vienna building, the consolation for the few deaths that occurred, and the enhanced individuals at large.

King T'challa, the new ruler of Wakanda, has declined attendance to this meeting. His current preparations for his father T'chaka's funeral has prevented him from being here. He'd sent a letter beforehand, apologizing profusely for his absence. He also mentioned in his words that he would donate money to help the other eleven victims and their families.

That's how I ended up at the United Nations Office at Geneva, in Switzerland.

It was quite surprising to me, the grandness of the facility itself. A giant place-like structure, the front framed by marble columns to support the balcony overhead. The bright green patches of grass in the front made the serenity of the area nearly tangible.

The briefing room is what really got me. A cooling gray colored room, with four separate rows of chairs with at least twenty seats. At minimum. A stage stood vibrantly at the front of the room, the golden symbol of the United Nation's glistening proudly. Pillars of stone at the siding. Someone had placed a panel table near the back of the stage.

That's where I was going to sit, with Secretary Ross, and a select few.

It was the place for the speakers. The president would be there, and the leaders of the other major nations as well. Yet as I watched the thousands of seats fill to the brim with other officials, I remain perfectly collected. Not a nervousness about me.

A sea of black and blue stares back at me as the lights overhead dim down. Thaddeus Ross steps out onto the stage, a microphone in hand.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, normally I would start off with a long introduction and a quote about prosperity and the state of the world. However, I feel that such a beginning would be exaggerated and paling in comparison to the trouble that our world is currently facing. Only open honestly here will be what resolves the issues. After what happened in Vienna, we are all wary of the possibilities."

A low roar erupts across the floor.

"I understand the concerns we feel in this room. Our last meeting was disastrous, but we cannot fear the unknown. If we yield, or hesitate to act when it's for the best of the world, we are no better than out attackers. We cannot show weakness or fear. The United Nations must stand strong. And to do that, we must not shy away from confrontation. This meeting is the first step in showing the strength of the United Nations."

Thaddeus crosses the stage, his body stiff and rigid. The way one would expect of a leader, a commander. His voice strong and willed, his words like a shield and a sword to urge the onward march. The tone meant to invoke hope and faith and all that nonsense.

"The Sokovia Accords were only the first step on our way to a safer world. Most all agree that the allowance of these enhanced individuals can no longer stand, but we must accept that the reality is this: they are here, this is happening, and we need to acknowledge that. Not all of these people are out to harm us, but there are some that would. That will. A terrifying reality."

There's an uncomfortable shift in the crowd at the latter of Secretary Ross's sentence. I can feel the way the air crackles with anxiety and unease at the current topic. Even if this is the reality, these people are too afraid to address it. Preferring to shove it under and rug and pretend it doesn't exists.

"The Avengers. Heroes? Villains? Vigilantes? Or luminaries? It cannot be denied that the Avengers have helped the world in dire times, that they have risked their lives for us. However, they have acted with ultimate power. Thus, we ended it. Put a limit on their influence. Checks and balance. The way of the world. Compromise is the key to a successful future. Now, before I begin, are there any questions?"

Hundred of hands rose at once. Thaddeus smiled tightly as he examined the audience.

"If your questions are about the incident at the Raft, lower your hands."

Nearly every hand dropped, with the exception of about ten to twelve. Most of which were situated in the back of the room by the doors. Thaddeus seems to decide against replying to the few questions about other topics.

"When this meeting neared, I was aware that the topic of the Raft would come to a head. That's why I've brought along a special guest. Ms. Johanna Kassner," Secretary Ross glances over his shoulder. Eyes telling me that this is my cue.

Standing up from the chair at the table, I manuver around the others who remain seated. I cross the floor and stand beside Thaddeus.

"Ms. Kassner is one of my most trusted colleagues. She's worked in many parts of the government, originally with S.H.I.E.L.D. before it went down in flames, and she worked as a high member of the CIA. The second in command of her department. She's also been a guard at the Raft for two years now and was there during the incident."

Every eye in the room shifts. All of them on me.

"That's why I brought her along. She's the only guard there who wasn't injured in the altercations, as such, I feel that she, as a personnel from the prison, is the perfect person to explain what had occurred. Ms. Kassner, you have the floor."

Thaddeus Ross hands me the microphone. I take it without hesitation. "Hello, I'm sorry if I seem a bit shaken up. Due to my time as a guard in the middle of the Pacific hasn't done well for my social encounters. I would first like to start off by saying that I send my condolences to the families who lost someone in the casualties. This is an awful situation and no amount of apologies can make it better."

An air of solace fills the room. I try to gather my thoughts in the five second pause between my last word and my next. Trying to figure out what to say on the spot, I never wrote a speech for this. Secretary Ross asked me at the last minute.

"However, we must press onward. Now, the Raft is one of the most secure prisons built. The problem is that we aren't dealing with average enemies. These 'heroes' who have refused to sign the accords are powerful forces and standard, untrained guards are not capable of matching these foes. That is not to say that Steve Rogers is dangerous of the general public.

"What I'm saying is that for there to be a successful prison to hold these types of criminals, we must have a trained task force who is prepared to deal with enhanced people as such. Our heroes, the one's who have signed the accords. They have the power and skill to do so. It's only fair for me to describe what happened and what I saw that day."

The group of leaders and politicians watch with bated breaths. Fingers clenched into fists, or digging into the dark colored slacks they wore. Keeping myself composed, I begin.

"I did _not_ cross paths or have any sort of contact with Steve Rogers during his break in. During the initial breach, I was on my way to ensure that another prisoner of the Raft was still contained. A dangerous man who had be kept in cryo containment. Just as I neared the room, the alarms in the facility went off. By the time I reached the other side of the Raft, the break in was over.

"My fellow colleagues were lying unconscious on the floor of the building. Dents and utter destruction to the facility, the type of damage that any normal human wouldn't be capable of. All I know is that Steve Rogers broke into the Raft to extract his team from the prison, they escaped using a stolen Quinjet. Anything else is pure speculation at best."

At that, I let the room fall quiet.

"Thank you for taking the time to come and clarify the circumstances Ms. Kassner," I turn at the sound of Thaddeus's voice. He's walking back over to me with a different microphone. "Let us begin discussing the means to combat these sort of criminals."

* * *

The meeting dragged on for hours.

It seemed like everyone had an idea for the best means to deal with these enhanced individuals. There were no defensive answers, no right or wrong suggestions. All of them were just so-so. It was eventually decided that the UN would begin a program to train people as a task force to combat these type of threats. The production of specially weapons to harm these types are in development.

Consultations with the likes of Tony Stark as reference. Though his affiliation with the Avengers and friendship with the particular criminal in question: Steve Rogers makes me doubt the legitimacy of his input. He has a bias. I already know about Secretary Ross calling in Mr. Stark when the Raft was breached, yet he didn't step in to help.

Therefore, he cannot be trusted. Not that anyone else can be either, it's easy to play face in the limelight and bend the rules behind the curtains. At least that's what I've always been taught.

"Johanna, there you are."

At the sound of Secretary Ross's voice, I stop and turn. There he stands, dressed in a black suit, slacks to match, a blue tie, and sleek, polished dress shoes that cost more than everything in my apartment back home.

"Secretary Ross, it's been awhile. How have you been?" I ask, playing pleasantries.

"I'm fine. Stress is getting to me, and everything with the accords hasn't helped any. Hey, what do you say about me giving you a lift back to the United States? A chance for us to catch up."

As convincing as his words may seem, I can hear the hidden message beneath them. Secretary Ross knows that there's more to what happened at the Raft. He knows that I didn't reveal everything I saw. That's the only explanation, he knows me to well to be fooled by my front. So I simply nod and follow him to the black suburban waiting outside the building.

The backseat of the vehicle is separated from the driver by black sound and bullet proof glass. We were headed towards the private airport where Thaddeus's private jet is awaiting his arrival.

"Now that we're alone, what really happened?"

"What I spoke at the UN hearing was accurate, I didn't encounter Steve Rogers, in person. He was on the camera feed, the hidden cameras that I had wanted you to install way back when. Only the camera's running on the first frequency went out, I saw the Quinjet on the screen just before it departed."

"How unfortunate. Johanna, when we return, I'd like for you to send me the digital copies of the camera feed. It'll certainly aid in out search for Rogers. Perhaps we can get a lead from the Quinjet, something to identify with it."

"Of course Secretary Ross."

Not another word passed between us.

* * *

 **Brooklyn, New York:**

It's pitch black before I step through the door of my empty apartment. Moonlight is kept from streaming through the window, thanks to the thermal curtains I have on all three windows in my living room.

My apartment is not the fanciest place, but it's not the worst either. It's has two bedrooms, one bath, and both and kitchen and living room. Having lived here for nearly four years without a scene change, I move mechanically through the room. Avoiding the couch, love seat, and in-table. Peering into my dim bedroom, I drop my suitcase on the floor, deciding to unpack it tomorrow.

Back in the living room, I don't jump at the shadowy silhouette seated on the rocking chair beside the far window. I sigh.

"Mother. What do I owe the pleasure of your uninvited visit?" My tone is clipped and hostile, enough so that I can even hear it. If I can, then she can as well. She doesn't even acknowledge it though, instead she moves towards the edge of the kitchen. Her form still hidden by the dark.

"Now is not the time for pleasantries child, I am a very busy woman. You know why I'm here. We need to talk."

And that we did.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Next chapter will actually show this conversation between Johanna and her mother, don't think I'm skipping over 'll start to touch on the fact that Johanna is more than she appears. I have a lot in store for her. Anyways, hope you all liked it. Comment below and favorite if you liked it! I'll be back soon with the next chapter as soon as possible.


	4. III: The Call

**Chapter III:**

 **The Call**

* * *

Mother sat on the rocking chair at the far end of the room while I sat across from her in the well-worn, leather couch. The room is cloaked in darkness, my worn-out eyes are only able to make out black blobs of objects. My fingers were numb from the metal soda can held in my hand. Neither of us wanted to be the one to break the uncomfortable silence.

The first one to do so showed their weakness, it's the equivalent of rolling over and playing dead. Knowing that Mother would never submit, or give in, I decide to be the one to do so. My pride isn't of concern to me.

"What is it that you need Mother?" I put emphasis on the title, knowing she hates that. At the sight of her silhouette stiffen at that word, an instinct she'd managed to squish earlier, I glare at her.

Even though her face is hidden by the shadows, I can see the look of annoyance written on her face as she fights the urge to snort in response.

"Do not call me that," she replies. Her voice is heavy with detest which is painfully apparent in her tone.

I swallow the aching lump in my throat, keeping my mask of indifference. So long as she's here, I will not allow myself to show any flaws in her presence, or give her any reason to believe that her opinion of me matters. Even if it does immensely.

"Your genuine and overwhelming concern for my well-being is truly touching," I retort, sarcastically.

It's been nearly three years since my mother last contacted me. We've only spoken to one another a handful of times over that duration of time. She never called to ask how I was fairing in the world. No. It was only about the connections and inside leads available.

Mother huffs, indignantly. "Ah, I see. Your feelings are hurt. Well let me tell you something, as far as your sensitivity goes, it's pathetic. I have told you before daughter-dearest," she spits the term with venom. "Your melodramatic tendencies are an embarrassment. Have I taught you nothing? Those sort of connections will be your downfall child.

"Yes, so you've mentioned a thousand times before," I reply, childishly.

"And yet you seem to be unable to comprehend this certainty, so I shall say it again." Mother leans forward in her chair, her shadowy form showy and graceful yet deadly and dangerous. Like a lion ready to pounce.

You cannot rely on anybody in the world except yourself child. Not in this line of business and most certainly not in life." Mother stands, and turns. Her back facing me as she stares at the dark curtains. "Our type of work doesn't allow for such luxuries. For us, there is only the next play."

"Which brings us back to where we started. Why are you here?"

Her icy blue eyes pierce through the dark, cutting at my soul like a knife. "An important source of mine was quick to inform me about your run-in will Steve Rogers. I also know about the lie you told to Secretary Ross. You placed trackers on that Quinjet."

Understanding washes over me. I nod, slowly. "That's what you want. A location?"

Mother snorts.. "Well I certainly didn't rush across from the opposite side of the globe to discuss your lack of obedience and negligence to inform me of the incident child. As you're aware, I'm well informed."

I bite back a frustrated sigh.

Reaching into my purse, which sat beside the couch, I pull out my iPhone and tap a few times on the screen. It takes only a minute for the device to anonymously sync with the wireless output from the AUDT. The best thing about those trackers is that the signal is rerouted through over a hundred-thousand mainframes, preventing anyone from tracing the network back to my phone.

A map of the world appears, then the screen zooms in to show a red dot hovering over a place in Africa. The area situated around Wakanda, the country King T'challa now rules. What would Steve Roger's be doing there?

I toss the iPhone to my mother who catches it with practiced ease. The type of reflexes that come with a lifetime of practice and agility. She examines the screen, her pale skin illuminated slightly by the blue glow of it. Though her face is shrouded in shadows, I can see the wicked edges of her long black eyelashes, the sinister curl of her scarlet lips, and the humorless smirk tugging at the edge of her mouth.

She's the very image of a dangerous predator out for the kill with aura of menace that radiates to match. A sensation that expels from her like a furnace, and yet she brings about a chill to the air that counteracts the former.

Mother is both. Beautiful and dangerous. Calm and vicious. Passive and sinister. A volatile combination of the most opposing characteristics.

A trait which can terrify even the most battle hardened warriors. She's is the unexpected, the untamable. The monster in the night and one to never be trusted or left out of sight. The type of being that one would be foolish to ever leave your back to for fear that she'll strike. And yet, I'm unaffected by the chill and unease that most feel in her presence.

I wonder if it's because I radiate the same thing, though I severely hope not, or if it's because Mother's always been a figure too far out of reach for me to grasp, let alone be dangerous to my safety.

"Hmm, I am rather surprised." Mother tosses the phone back, and I glance down at the blinking dot.

Maybe it would seem like she was actually and genuinely shocked by the turn of events, but I know her better than most Even though her cold exterior prevents me from digging to deeply, I know that she isn't all that surprised. So I don't know why I bother to explain at all.

"I'm not. Tony Stark informed Thaddeus Ross about the influence that a Sokovian man played in the events that transpired. Baron Zemo was behind the bombing in Vienna, and he killed T'challa's father. It makes sense that once the truth was revealed, T'chall would be apologetic of his actions and offer Rogers a simple stay in Wakanda. Even if it goes against the accords."

"And these 'heroes' are regarded by many fools as saviors of the Earth? They cause more havoc than anyone else has, all that property damage, death, and destruction." Mother lets out a dry cackle.

"Not to mention that most of these events are their fault to begin with. Tony Stark being the instigator. Ultron's terror was on him and that Dr. Banner, for geniuses they are not very smart. It's times like these that makes me sure that humanity should not be trusted with it's own freedom. That there needs to be a new control of power."

"A very wise man once said the same thing, and he's dead now. Yet his ideals will live on," she replies, as she rises to her feet. "The problem is that humans despise change. They are stubborn and set in their ways. Afraid to see how great a new order could be. That is why the methods to achieve something as such has changed in the passing decades."

Mother turns her back to me, her body a black blob against the backdrop of the darkened room.

"And what happens after, when the change is complete? What would such a world be like? A peaceful one, or a place eclipsed in chaos and ruin. Those are the choices to be made, but I know you, as much as you may dislike that. Why have you sought me out. I know you wanted more than Roger's location."

She says nothing, instead she shifts closer to the window.

"Leaving so soon Mother?" I ask, looking away. "How long do I have to wait around for you this time?"

I try to keep the unsteady anger and sadness from bubbling out. The complete abandonment I feel every time I have an encounter with the woman who gave me life. When I was young, all I ever wanted was to make her proud. For her to love me. I've never gained either of those things. Even now I long for it, long for her love and approval.

Though I'd lie though my teeth if asked.

It's as Mother said, emotions are a weakness that cannot be allowed. They will only lead to ones own destruction, concern for other will be my demise if something were to happen. I've always wondered though, after the painful tests, in the empty nights alone, while I held back tears, and tried to be strong like my mother who was unbreakable.

Was it worth it? To be so easily broken at ones death.

To have the sort of connection and willingness to die for another. A love so profound that your own life was minuscule in comparison to theirs? Is that what made emotions a strength? Or was that what made it a weakness...

She manages to keep from tensing at the title. So ignore it completely. "Not long child, I have great plans for you. I'll be in touch. There are more important matters to tend to, for now. Be ready"

By the time I look back, she's gone. Almost as if she'd never been there to begin with, but the breeze blowing into my now-open window tells me otherwise.

* * *

 **June 16, 2016**

 **12:00 AM**

Loud ticking from the grandfather clock in the living room is mocking me by this point. I've been in bed since Mother left, returning to the darkness from which she came. Now I'm troubled. Unable to understand what has transpired only three hours prior. Then my phone rings. Sitting up in my queen size bed, I reach on the night stand for my cell phone and wince as the bright light from the screen burns my retinas.

Answering without even glancing at the caller. "Hello?"

It's Thaddeus Ross.

"Sorry to call so late Ms. Kassner. I would have waited, but this was important."

"That's perfectly fine Secretary Ross, what can I help you with?" I ask, throwing my front back up. Making my voice sound cool and professional, burying all my feelings deep inside myself.

"Now's not the time, there will be an important meeting at the United Nations Headquarters. I would like you to be there. I'll be assigning you on a very special assignment. That'll be all."

"I'll be there, thank you."

The line goes dead.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Oh my gosh, this chapter was such a killer. Trying to figure out what happens next in the MCU now that's it's been blown apart is a lot harder than you might think it is. Like how the hell do the people at Marvel just pick random locations for shit to go down? It makes no sense to me. Anyways, I was originally going to have Johanna at that meeting that'll be in next chapter (don't worry it won't be long), but I was over this chapter. Maybe after next I'll start to pick up the pace, get into what makes her the way she is and start revealing some of her backstory. What do you want to see? Who do you think Johanna really is? What is her goals? Who do you think her mother is? And what would you like to see happen next? Comment below and favorite if you like it!


	5. IV: A Split in Perception

**Chapter IV:**

 **A Split in Perception**

* * *

The first thing everyone does when they meet someone new is label them. To strap that person with some type of identifiable adjective. Something to identify that person as the one that _they_ met. For those that 'know' me, I know how I'm seen by the world. A no-nonsense, workaholic, blond with a glass smile, and a face of a thousand deceits.

Though the last adjective describe me entirely.

In my life, I have seen many things and have learned the hard way that obedience is key,and to always do are you're told. No one is on your side, ever. My mother is the one who taught me the latter. It's due to my tough upbringing that I've learned to play face, to be somebody that I'm not.

To get what you want in this world, you have to appeal to the common denominator. The masses and the majority at the same time. To be multi-dimensional in every aspect of how you present yourself. That's how I managed to get my foot into the CIA, but being exactly what they wanted and needed in that moment, and to be the light in the darkness.

By the time I joined, the CIA was still reeling. The Avengers, superheroes or vigilantes? A threat to the world or good Samaritans, the same argument brought about by the Sokovia Accords. Not to mention the reveal of extraterrestrial life does exist.

It was the perfect opportunity for me to slide into that world, not to mention my past associations with S.H.I.E.L.D. before it fell to pieces and rained like burning embers from the sky. The truth that HYDRA was growing inside it, like a parasite. It's a sort of irony and luck on my own part that I managed to leave before everything blew up in their faces.

Now here I am, driving through the busy New York streets. After Secretary Ross's call last night, I knew that getting from my apartment in Brooklyn to the United Nations Office in New York City would be a hassle. Though it's only a thirty-seven minute drive, the traffic makes it nearly a hour or two longer than it should be.

That's why I departed at four this morning. Currently it's almost 5:30 and the meeting's at six.

* * *

Thaddeus Ross is waiting casually in the lobby when I arrive. He's dressed in a blue suit with a pin-striped tie. He seems unfazed by the early hours, nothing on him is out of place and impeccable.

"Ms. Kassner, I was waiting for you. The traffic give you trouble?" he asks, crossing the floor to meet me in the rooms center.

"By now you should know the answer to that Secretary Ross, the traffic here is always an obstacle. If we have anymore people relocate here, I'm nearly convinced that this part of the nation will break off and sink like a stone."

Thaddeus laughs. "Always such an optimist there Johanna. Come on, the rest of the team is waiting for us in the Board Room."

"How are they? I mean, after what happened."

I follow Thaddeus through the hallway. "Jonah Thomas has a few broken bones, including his left arm; Diana Miller is battered and bruised, but otherwise unharmed; Damian Scott has abrasions on his hands and knees and a few contusions. As you can see, most of them are perfectly fine, just a bit dented up from the incident, but that's to be expected."

We round a corner and stop by the only door on this floor. Thaddeus opens it with ease and slips inside, nearly soundless. I follow, making sure to shut the door behind me as I do. Seated around a white table is everyone is question, all the guards at the Raft.

They've been recovering for the last couple of day while I've been off with Thaddeus Ross in Geneva. It's a wonderful sight to see them all doing so well, Diana looks better than before. Her brown hair is tied back in a ponytail, her chin is still purple and blue, and her green eyes are rimmed in black. Damian is beside her, his black hair messy and untamed.

As for Jonah, he's seated closer to the front of the room, his sandy hair cut short, and his arm is bound in a white cast. All eyes turn when Thaddeus and I enter the room, my fellow colleagues seem relieved to see me.

Gliding across the tiled floor, I take a seat on the other side of Diana. Thaddeus Ross walks around the table to stand in front of us, the stage behind him looking complete untouched.

"I trust you all are fairing well?" he asks the rest of them.

"Yes," Diana says. "Though we are all deeply ashamed of what happened. That we failed to do our jobs."

Secretary Ross hums. "Don't be. Ms. Kassner warned me that this would happen and I failed to reconsider it. I knew the Raft wasn't prepared to house all of them and the fact that Steve Rogers was likely to come was implied. None of you were trained to deal with a force as such, and Johanna wasn't even close by when the breach occurred. That's on me."

"What are we supposed to do about the headlines?" it was Damian this time. "When the news gets a hold of this?"

Thaddeus turns to him. "Luckily, the UN has managed to contain it. They have managed to keep the public from finding out and we need to do our best to keep it that way. These are trying times, with the Sokovia Accords just being ratified, the populations needs to have faith that out government can contain and stop these enhanced individuals from breaking the law.

"For the people, we are the ones standing between them and these so-called 'heroes,' therefore, we must be better. That's why I've been seeking out alternative means and training reanimates to enable us to combat these sort of enemies. Tony Stark has agreed to help, but due to his affiliation with Steve Rogers, I do not trust his accuracy. That's where you come in Ms. Kassner."

I quirk an eyebrow, my silent question obvious.

"I'll be sending you to visit Mr. Stark at the New Avengers Facility, due to your background in dealing with corrupt and unreliable sources, I'll be counting on your ultimate judgement. That will determine our next course of action. Any questions?"

No one said a thing.

"Alright, Ms. Kassner, I have set up as associate to drive you to a sleeper train. The current roadways to the New Avengers Facilities are blocked off and the train ride will be long. I figured your rather have a chance to sleep before having to interact with Stark. As for the rest of you, I have specific assignments for every one. All of them crucial to our success."

* * *

The sleeper train was much more expensive and extravagant that I thought it would be.

It's a rather large room with a full sized bed pressed against the wall and a window situated across one wall adjacent to my bed, showing the tunnel siding. There's suppose to be a time on this trip when the train will trek through a forest area and show the trees scattered about.

Secretary Ross's meeting lasted longer than I thought it would be. It started the moment I'd arrived until twelve in the afternoon, not to mention the hour drive from the United Nations Headquarters to the terminal, and the three hours that I've been waiting for the train to start moving. Thaddeus Ross was on-point with his assumption of time.

By this point, I'm sure that walking there would be much faster than this.

Deciding that waiting around for the train to start moving could take longer, catching up on sleep would be a better use of my time. I barely got any sleep last night, I was preoccupied by the encounter with Mother to focus on a good nights sleep. Not that I have decent sleeps anyways, I consistently plagued by nightmares. I'm sure that I'll have one as well.

Usually I work myself into the ground to keep them at bay, be it by exercise or by exhausting myself mentally. Despite having to get up as early as I did, there was not near as much grueling and in-depth discussion. The sort that takes much more time and though to compromise.

That's the type of mental exhaustion needed to suppress the nightmares that haunt my sleep.

However, I don't mind the nightmares at this point. The boredom is weighing more on me at the moment, so I lock the door to my room, and climb under the covers of the bed to try to get at least an hour or two of sleep. Tomorrow, the work begins.

* * *

 _Ragged breaths fill the tense silence. The sound was jagged and uneasy—reminiscent of a panicked animal running for its life—and a white puff of condensation released into the frigid air with ever exhale. It took longer than it should for my troubled mind to register where the sound came from. But when it did, I felt a shiver shoot down my spine._

 _I was the one breathing like that._

 _My heart pounded painfully against my rib cage as my mind whirled itself in circles. Trying hopelessly to calculate a way out of that dire situation. There isn't much time, I have to keep moving. They'll get me if I stop, he'll get me._

 _Kill me…_

 _Pushing off the cold metal of the inoperative boiler, I limp forward. My side burned with an vividly familiar pain. Something warm and sticky seep through the fingers of my right hand. The hand that was pressed against my left side._

 _Blood, and lots of it. I knew I was going to need stitches, or I would bleed to death. Not that anyone there would care much if I were to die._

 _Once I am free, I can rest. That would give me the time needed to patch myself up. I needed stitches, but there was no time for that, so I came to another decision. It won't be a permanent fix but, I released the wound which then poured freely. Wrenching my sweater off, I tied it painfully tight around my waist. Binding the wound will lessen the blood loss and allow for more maneuverability._

 _With my hand pressed against my side like that, I was at a disadvantage._

 _A weakness to exploit._

 _Fighting with only one hand, against an opponent like that. I shook my head. Foolish. If he were to catch up, I'd have to fight him head on. Even if it means me bleeding out in the process, anything is better than this..._

* * *

I jolt, sitting ramrod straight in the warm bed.

The room was dark, nearly black. The rectangular window was wide open and the sight of fast passing of trees was a sight to behold. My heart pounds wildly in my chest and anger overwhelms me.

Shoving the memories back down where they belong, I climb out of the bed, drag the sitting chair over, and move towards the window. Situating myself in front of it to watch the passing world. The sky was deep blue, the clouds hidden from sight, and the world illuminated in the blue flow from the full moon glowing in the center of the sky.

After nightmares, I always find myself question my own identity. Who am I? Does it even matter what I do, or continue to do? What happens after everything falls away, who am I beneath the masks? I always allow myself to express these feelings, because they always go away once the sun comes up. Just a shadow of the night.

My entire life has been split. Light and dark.

There's always been something else, another name, another face, another command. A mother who told me to never question the leader, a mother who has always seemed to despise me, a mother who I've always wanted to love and care for me. A mother who I can never impress. An yet, here I am. Doing all of this, and for what? What will I get in return?

Nothing, but it's too late. There's nothing I can do.

I've tried before, and failed. This is my life, who I will always be. I'm a lot of people, but as I stare into my reflection. The blond hair, blue eyes woman staring back is nothing but a stranger to me.

A facade.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Sorry about taking so long on this chapter. I've been dealing with some personal issues, and this chapter was hard to write. I didn't know what I wanted to happen, so all of this was off the top of my head. I decided to say fuck it, and just reveal some of her background, there's a hell of a lot more to 'Johanna' and the end of this chapter really shows that. Also, I went back and adjusted the ending a bit, so she doesn't outright reveal anything, so I like that better. Be sure to comment below and favorite if you like it! I'll be back soon.


	6. V: The New Avengers Facility

**Chapter V:**

 **The New Avengers Facility**

* * *

The New Avengers Facility was, in all actuality, a giant warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The only signs of life are the trees surrounding the base and the green grass currently being crushed beneath my boots. After my vulnerability last night, I've shoved every trace of the person I'm wish to be down and suppress her presence. Johanna Kassner is a strong-willed, independent woman who never doubts herself.

She's who I must be while here at Anthony Stark's building. There cannot be any inconsistencies in how I present myself to these people, I don't need them to question my motives. Gathering myself, I climb the pathway and stop by the front of the building. Just as I am to knock, the door swishes open.

There stands the man of the hour. Tony Stark looks terrible, like he's seen better days. His face is busted up and bruised an ugly purple. Signs of his fist fight with Captain America at HYDRA's Siberian Base. There's that signature glint in his eyes, but it's a forced appearance. He's putting on a show, he knew I was coming and so he put on an act for the time being.

How thoughtful, too bad I can see past people's deception. I'm wasn't such a high-ranked S.H.I.E.L.D. for no reason. Being able to read other people is one of the first rules in the handbook.

"Hello Mr. Stark, it's nice to finally meet you. Secretary Ross has told me so much about you, I would like to say thank you for allowing me to stay here for the duration of our discussions. It's rather kind of you."

Anthony Stark tilts his head to the side, questioningly. Like he's confused by me. "Please, call me Tony. Mr. Stark is my father." He seems to say on habit, then goes rigid for a moment, before loosening up. "Come on in." Anthony steps to the side, allowing me enough room to slip past him and through the doorway, and into the lobby area of the facility.

There were couches and seats everywhere, and in all colors. Including orange. A table sat near the chairs, just off from the center of the room with glasses resting there as if decoration only. Walls of windows, and other expensive pieces to bring the building to life.

It was extraordinary, the money and dedication that must have gone into the construction for the inside of the building. Now it's barren and nearly empty of all life, a former shell of what it used to be. Once joyful and brimming with activity, now melancholy and dreary with only a few people left to give it a touch, a spark, of any kind of life.

Not to mention that Vision, an artificial being, lived here as well. His touch wouldn't be so predominant.

"How was your train ride Ms. Kassner?" Tony asks, his voice echoing.

"Long and droll. I was excited when it came to an end, I've never been much of a people person."

"Not surprising, your boss isn't much for social interaction either," Tony seems to take notice of my suitcase, and duffel bag slung over my shoulders. "How about I show you where you'll be staying and you can meet me in the workshop later? F.R.I.D.A.Y. can tell you how to get there."

"Sure. I'd like that, it'd give me a chance to get rid of all this stuff."

With that, Tony leads me through the facility, occasionally pointing out rooms as we pass. One of which he'd mentioned as the New Avengers training room. He said that due to complications with the other half of the team, no one has used it and informed me that if I needed to work off any steam I was more than welcome to do so in there.

"Here we are," Tony stops at the end of the hall, which leads to another that extends horizontally in infinite lines down both sides. An entire wing designed for potential guests. The room I was given was right in front of the hallway that returns to the living quarters, presumable so I don't get lost.

"Thanks again, I'll see you soon." I enter the room.

"Welcome Ms. Kassner," sounds female voice with an Irish accent. I don't bother to search the room, already aware that this is the AI which Tony had previously mentioned. "My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y. and am at your assistance, should you require anything."

"That won't be necessary for the moment, I'll simply be unpacking. However, I will need directions to the lab in which Mr. Stark will be in later."

"Noted. I will contact you once you've finished."

The AI went dead, the room was silent. I haul my suitcase up onto the center of the bed and unzip it. Tucked beneath the heap of clothes is my tablet. I brought it to keep access with the outside world. It works on its own internet source, to keep Stark from being able to look back through his own internet records. There also the metal flash drive that brushes against my finger.

The same one that I used after planting the AUDT on the Quinjet. I copied the surveillance footage to it and manually removed all traces of it from the mainframe and network at the Raft. Thaddeus Ross would be on to me if he saw my involvement that day.

Not to mention that he'd insist upon tracking down Rogers immediately

A foolish tactic when it comes to dealing with a target like Steve Rogers. He's a rather tactical person and just running at him like a dog does when you are waving a bone around isn't how to handle a situation as such.

This type of issue requires... precision.

It takes nearly an hour before I have unpacked both my suitcase and my duffel bag. The dresser is still pathetically empty, which goes to show how expensive and unnecessary they are. My belonging barely fill two of the drawers.

I leave the flash drive hidden beneath the false bottom of the suitcase, along with my tablet. The last thing I need is for anyone to catch sight of those incriminating devices, especially here. With these sort of individuals.

"Are you ready now, Ms. Kassner?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks, voice coming from the speakers overhead.

"That I am."

By following the AI's instructions, I find myself standing in front of the door to what I assume is Tony Stark's personal workshop. If the devices scattered about and tools strewn everywhere was any hint. Tony himself was currently fiddling with something, I can't see what from here, but he's concentrating rather hard on it.

He sits up suddenly, I assume F.R.I.D.A.Y. just informed him of my arrival. So it seems this glass door is soundproof. I make a mental note of that.

The doors open, allowing me entrance.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come down. How do you like your accommodations?"

"It's grand, far too elegant for little ole me. Now, how about we get to work? There's a lot of work for us to do and the sooner we begin, the sooner you can go back to doing what you were doing before."

"Yeah sure," Tony motions me towards a chair, but I freeze at the sight of something very iconic. It lays on one of the metal work benches, but there's no mistaking it for anything else. Captain America's shield.

The patriotic red, white, and blue is burned, chipped, and melted away. The metal itself is dented and littered with scratches. What catches my attention is the three slash marks, like a cat dug its claws into the Vibranium with sheer intention. Those marks are from the Black Panther, King T'Challa himself, the only earth based thing that can damage his shield like that, it something else made from the same material.

"Is this?" I ask, hesitantly reaching a hand down to touch one of the jagged gashes in the metal.

"Caps shield? Yeah, my dad made it after all. I'm the one who actually deserves it..." there's a bitterness to his tone, something bad must have occurred. Something terrible. The underlying hate in his words is a tell.

Captain America is defenseless, to a small degree. Interesting. I withdraw my hand and take a seat.

* * *

By the time I return to my dwelling I have half a spiral filled with information on how to train and combat enhanced individuals. Though they are all non-lethal methods and most are bullshit. I knew he wasn't a reliable source for this sort of information.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the AI asks.

I need to deal with that nosy thing. Especially if I'm going to check up of the AUDT. Luckily, I came prepared. It's called the Lolo, the loop-te-loop, it is a device the loops out audio and footage. It'll basically keep this room is a constant loop, re-configuring a systems network without being detected.

"No thank you, I think I'll brush my teeth and go to bed."

"Alright then, would you like for me to wake you up at a particular time?"

"There's no need, I'm an early riser."

That's exactly what I do, I take a pair of sleep clothes from the dresser, slip into the bathroom by the bed, and brush my teeth. However, I pull out the device hidden in the shirt pocket on my sleep top. Fully dressed in sleeping clothes, my teeth fully brushed, I climb underneath the cover and request that F.R.I.D.A.Y. turn the lights off and seemingly turn in for the night.

I fake a sleep. As an undercover agent for S.H.I.E.L.D. for the brief time I worked there, acting was a natural part of the job. You had to be capable of talking, or fighting, your way out of situations. That why they had acting classes for the field agents. I was already a master in the art long before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and still to this day. I'm always acting.

One hand is resting beneath the pillow, slowly, after about fifteen minutes of perfect sleep imitation, I press the crescent shaped device to the wall and wait. Another five minutes pass when I speak.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Are you there?" I wait for a response.

There is none.

Sitting up, I reach beneath the bed and pull the suitcase out. I hack into the AUDT's audio feed. It was silent for awhile, but it sudden crackled to life, in the middle of a conversation.

"—been put back under." It was Steve Roger's voice.

The room was silent again. "What do we do now Cap? Were fugitives of the law and you know Ross isn't gonna give up that easily." This man's voice was deeper, I make an educated guess by assuming Sam Wilson.

"There must be somewhere for us to lay low. As kind as T'challa has been, we mustn't cause conflict between him and the other nations by harboring us," a female voice, heavy with a Sokovian Accent. Wanda Maximoff.

"Steve?" it was Barton that time, I have heard his voice before, when he was with S.H.I.E.L.D. and during his stay in the Hole.

"I don't know, but we can't give in. The people need our help and we need to be ready to defend them."

There were no more words.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Here it is, the fifth chapter! It took me a bit longer than I expected, but considering I had nothing planned before, I'd say that this ended up pretty good, all things considered. So next chapter I think I'll cut to Steve and co. to see what they doing and what they know. Anyways, as always, comment below and tell me what you think and if you like this story, favorite. I'll be back soon!


	7. VI: What Remains of the Avengers

**Chapter VI:**

 **What Remains of the Avengers**

* * *

The following morning, I made sure to remove the device from the wall. The entirety of the device is simply to loop the footage of my apparent 'sleep' to fool the artificial intelligence system. Much to easy. It's almost sad, really.

Now, as I stand in what used to be the commons area of the New Avengers Facility, its dreary and sad. As though rain clouds loom over the room, the light of which has been chased away by the darkness. This is what happens when two factions align and divide the sides. No matter the victor, both sides are loser. All is lost, that's what makes the sad sight amusing.

To see the greats fall so far. The realization that they are just as weak and fragile as the rest. A sight that has forever eluded the public's attention, that the Avengers aren't as good as they claim to be.

At the sound of heavy, labored breathes, I turn. Tony Stark is currently helping the still-crippled Rhodes walk on Stark's newly created device to enable his friend to walk once again. Tony's brow was creased in what I assume is worry, as for Rhodes, he's drenched in sweat from the strain. I imagine that being paralyzed and having to adapt to a new way of walking would be an easy feat.

I predicted it before either of them did. Wanting to appear kindly and pleasant, I move silently through the room and catch the arm of Rhodes, slowing his fall. I ease him to the ground and he, and Stark, both look up. Surprised to see me.

"Are you alright?" I ask, noting how emotionless my tone sounds in my own ears.

Rhodes nods, slowly. "Yeah. Thanks."

"You're leaning too much weight forward, for better mobility, center you weight. It'll prevent your face from having so much contact with the floor," with that, I release his arm and turn away. Leaving the two of them be, I make my way down a narrow hall in the right wing on the facility. This is where all the bedrooms for the Avengers, I use the term loosely, are located.

Most of the doors are left open, allowing me to briefly glace into the rooms as I pass. The code names of the heroes are labeled by a metal name plate on the door. Scarlet Witch, War Machine, Hulk, Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Falcon.

Vision, the comprised synthetic being doesn't have a room. He has a dwelling, due to his being created, I've been told that he does not sleep. Though that could be false information. It was provided to me by Thaddeus Ross. Whoever told him may not have been as well verse in the world of the Avengers and their inter-workings as we would have liked.

The sight of yellow and a figure phasing through the wall momentarily stuns me. Not enough to completely unhinge me, but enough for me to widen my eyes a bit and quirk an eyebrow. Speak of the devil.

It's Vision himself, perhaps his ears were burning?

His form manifests itself, he seems to suddenly realize my presence in the hallway as he blinks twice in my direction. "I'm sorry, I was not aware that you were here. Mr. Stark informed us that there was going to be a guest. I did not expect in to be so sudden. You must be Ms. Kassner. I'm Vision, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Same. You seem distracted, are you well?" I ask, deflecting any chance for him to over analyze me.

"Yes, I am. Things have be rather... troubling lately. The loss of our former associates has diminished the moral of all of us. It is truly sad that we must all be at odds, but such a price comes with oversight and regulating. As for you Ms. Kassner?"

A pretend smile. "I'm well. Though I won't be staying here very long, I'm on assignment. Secretary Ross needed information on ways for, non-powered individuals to handle threats of a more _advantaged_ position. He wanted me to seek counsel from Anthony about ways in which to do so."

Vision appraises me for a moment. In that instant, I feel as though he's looking _through_ me. Rifling through me deepest darkest places hidden within the cracks of my mind, tugging out my memories that haunt me. "You are a woman of a thousand faces Ms. Kassner. I do not understand it, but you are much more than you let on. Do you take refuge in hiding?"

My defenses immediately shutter around me. Hiding my truer self from prying eyes. "I'm afraid that I don't understand."

"Do not feel the need to defend yourself against me, I will not bring you harm. What I mean is that I can see, from the shadows that plague your eyes, that there's another story being told. I cannot make out the details, but you have not seen the easiest life. You wear many personas and they enable you not to feel, rarely do you spend time as your true self. Am I correct?"

I say nothing. Then, "I think I better be going."

Vision doesn't make a move to stop me, I think it's because he already knows his suspicions were correct.

* * *

The earliest memory I have of my mother, is when I was five. She'd finally returned from some country that she wouldn't inform me with the name of. I was left in someone else's care for those years prior to her return. Four full years of my life spent without knowing who my mother was, what her face looked liked, or even what her first name was.

For me, she was an enigma. A fairy tale. Someone who didn't exist, for if she did, why didn't she care enough about me to be around? After I saw her, I knew we were related, I have her nose, her light—almost pale— skin tone, and her puffy lips. She was beautiful and magnetic. I wanted to grow up and be as beautiful as her.

That changed fast. She may be pretty on the outside, but my mother is emotionless. Aside from the most vile of them. No love in her heart. It was something that I've denied for years, and even still continue to do. For I know that once I admit it, I'll know fully why my mother is never concerned for my well-being. Why her love as so unattainable.

She doesn't care.

Not the way that I do for her, even if she was a distant attachment. I've always desired her approval, to make her proud of me. To see me as someone of worth and value, for her to care. Perhaps she does, maybe she just keeps those feelings buried. How could she not? She gave me life.

I sigh in frustration, running a hand through my blonde hair.

This is foolishness, I'm an adult and I shouldn't desire 'Mommy's' approval for anything. I've grown up without having it and now, at my age, I should be able to cope wit her detached nature. She must care, to some degree. Why else would I be allowed to live? To grow as old as I have if there was nothing worthwhile about me. The associates Mother works with wouldn't hesitate to do so.

Not that they would succeed of course, not now anyways. When I was younger though? They might have very well done just that. Unless they wanted me as well, for something. For this.

My eyes focus dart up at the mirror, seeing blond locks splayed through my parted fingers, noting it differently. The way it's supposed to look. Glaring, I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and I can see what Vision was talking about though, the dark circles under my eyes and the detached look in my blue eyes.

"Shit," I sigh, my dark brown hair is stating to peek from the fading blonde dye. It's been nearly two weeks she it was last done, it's time for me to re-apply that temporary hair dye. I've been putting it off, but now I regret it.

Tugging at the hair, I rearrange the rest of it to hide my true hair color. Before I can check my work, my phone starts to ring. Reaching for the phone in my pocket, I slide the bar on the iPhone and hold it to my phone.

"Hello?" I ask, not having bothered to examine the name on caller ID.

"Ms. Kassner, how are things with Stark?" Thaddeus Ross asks, his voice light. Though I'm nearly positive that he's waiting anticipation, and sitting on the edge of his seat for my response.

"Everything is fine, Mr. Stark has given me an outline program for ways to combat enhanced individuals, means to contain them, and various methods an devices to create that would help in-field operations."

"Good, and what do you think of it?"

Picturing the outline in my head. "It's alright, there are a few glaring flaws, but they're easily fixable problems. The plan has a steady foundation that is sure to help the United States government deal with these people."

"That's great to hear, send me a digital copy of the outline. You'll be staying at the New Avengers facility for one more day, I have another assignment for you. I'll be in touch, keep your phone on hand. Goodbye."

The line goes dead. Great talk Ross, I roll my eyes and slip my phone back into my pocket.

* * *

Tony Stark stops by a handful of hours after my first encounter with Vision. He didn't seem to be in a rush to find me, but he was seeking me out. Though the issue for which must not be pressing.

"There you are, I've been looking for ya," Stark says as I stand before him, peering out from behind the door of my room.

"Well I'm not that hard to find, there aren't to many places that an AI couldn't locate me," I reply, tone deadpan.

Tony Stark gives me a short glare. One that says that he isn't amused by my comment, but that's perfectly fine. His childish little quips and jabs are not at all amusing to me either. "I didn't ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. where you were, at first, I tried to search you out like the olden days, but I gave up."

"What did you need? I mean, you've obviously come searching for a reason."

"Yeah, c'mon Blondie. I've want to show you something in my workshop," Tony Stark turns and starts down the hall, leaving me no option except to follow him. And follow him I do.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Sorry that it took me so long to write this chapter, my personal issues are making it difficult to focus on writing. Not to mention that this chapter certainly wasn't easy to write, it wasn't as bad as some of the others I've written. Next chapter will have more Tony and Johanna talking/bonding/whatever-ing. Then I'm thinking I''ll start the real plot the chapter after next, by next chapter we'll be seven chapters in, eight if you include the prologue so it's not rushed anymore. So yeah, we just have next chapter and then I'll start getting into the real depth of the story. Anyways, as always comment below if you like this story and if you love it, add it to your favorites. And I'll be back soon with the next chapter!


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